


Bedmates

by ununquadius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Flatshare - Beth O'Leary
Genre: Blow Jobs, Emotional Abusive Exboyfriend, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Healer Harry, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, They're flatmates, past abusive relationship, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:41:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26428807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ununquadius/pseuds/ununquadius
Summary: Flat for renting!One bedroom, one bathroom. Small but cosy. Good lighting.I’m a 24-year-old man who works at night, so the flat will be all yours during the day and the weekends. We won’t meet at all. The only issue is that there’s just one bed, so we’ll have to share it.If you’re interested, ask for James in the address below.Draco thought it was a very good offert.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 161
Kudos: 577





	1. The Flat

**Author's Note:**

> I read _The Flatshare_ and couldn't think about anything else but a drarry version of it, so I had to write it! Writing this fic was so much fun! It was a very intense week and a half of writing at every free moment I had, so I hope it was worthy!
> 
> I want to thank mfish for the amazing beta work, you're a gem, hun!! Y'all can't believe all the mistakes this had before mfish fixed everything. I owe you a hundred cakes <3
> 
> And I want to thank thatbritishcanadiangirl on tumblr for all the help with Radwah's character, and all the things she taught me about Muslim women <3 
> 
> Any mistakes you see are my own and not the fault of these wonderful people!
> 
> Now go read. Hope you like it!

“A bit pretentious, isn’t it? A double door in such a small space?” Pansy asked when they reached the landing where the flat Draco was going to rent was. 

“It’s an old building,” the caretaker answered, taking out the key and opening the door. “They were bigger flats, but they did a renovation to make a bunch of one-rooms flats. Come inside.”

Draco, Pansy, and Greg looked around. The flat was small, but cosy, as it said in the ad Draco had seen in _The Prophet_. The walls were a soft cyan blue, and the furniture was a weird but nice mix, from a modern sofa to an old looking kitchen that was hidden from the living room by a wall. 

“The bathroom and bedroom are over there, in that small corridor,” the caretaker said, pointing to the opening in the middle of the back wall. 

The three of them went to see those rooms. They were small too, but Draco loved them instantly. There was a big tub in the bathroom, and the bedroom was very luminous, with a window that occupied an entire wall. 

“It’s perfect,” he said. 

“It’s tiny,” Pansy said, looking in distaste at the bed. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“You can stay at my place until you find something better, Draco,” Greg said. 

“You don’t have a spare bed for me, and I refuse to sleep on your couch. It’s lumpy.” Draco opened the wardrobe and looked inside. He doubted it was big enough for all his clothes, but he hoped his new roommate wouldn’t mind sharing a bit of his space. “And I’m not going back to Michael’s flat.”

“Of course not!” Pansy exclaimed. His friends had never liked Michael. “But this… Are you sure? You’re going to share the bed with a stranger!”

“At different times,” Draco reminded her. “I’ll use it at night and he in the mornings, and I’ll have the flat for myself on the weekends too. It’s perfect! And cheap. I can’t afford anything else, and no way I’m paying for that mouldy flat we saw in Knockturn Alley.”

“If you’re sure…” Greg said, still unconvinced. “It could be a psychopath.”

Pansy bit her bottom lip and looked at him. 

“And he’ll be sharing his flat with a Death Eater. We’re even,” Draco said, as he left the bedroom and went to close the deal with his new caretaker. 

He couldn’t believe he was finally getting his own place!

* * *

“You’re mental,” Ron said, looking at Harry with his eyes open wide.

“It’s a great idea! Hermione, tell him it’s a great idea!” Harry said from his place on the sofa, next to his best friend. 

“It’s the worst thing I have ever heard.” She took a sip from her teacup and looked at her watch. “I have to go to work in ten minutes, enough time to make you see reason.”

“I work at night, so my flat is empty that whole time. It’s not that crazy!” Harry insisted. 

“You’re going to share your bed with a stranger!” Ron said, still looking at Harry as if he had gone nuts in front of him. 

“At different times!” Harry reminded him. “So it doesn’t really count!”

“It can be anyone!” Hermione said. 

“I signed it as ‘James’ so I don’t attract some Harry Potter crazy fans,” Harry told them. “Besides, I already have a roommate.”

“Bedmate, more like it,” Ron muttered. 

Harry ignored him. 

“It’s a man. His name is Dray, and he’ll move in tomorrow, so you two can stop trying to convince me that this is a bad idea now,” Harry said, getting up and stretching a bit. He had had a long shift at St Mungo’s. He needed to rest. 

“It’s a bad idea,” Hermione said, getting up too and vanishing the teacups to the sink. “I’m going to work now.” She pecked Ron on the lips, hugged Harry, and left. 

“You’ll tell us if he’s a weirdo, won’t you?” Ron said, getting up too and straightening his Auror robes.

“It’ll be fine! We won’t even see each other! I’m planning on spending all my weekends at your house as always,” Harry said. 

“And that’s supposed to make it better? You’re going to share your house, and your bed, with a total stranger and plan to keep it like that?” Ron shook his head in bewilderment, and said goodbye with a hand gesture before Disapparating.

Harry headed happily for his bedroom — or should he say their bedroom from now on? It was a good idea. Besides, he needed the money.


	2. The Kitchen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating the fic these days. I have all written and betaed, but I have to fix some things yet. Besides, I've always wanted to post a fic chapter by chapter 😂 I'm a simple girl, with simple dreams. 
> 
> Also, I noticed that I haven't added some tags before! I'm a mess at tagging, but I think I covered the main triggers. I'll add some more if I remember them (and if you think I should tag something else, please, let me know!).

Draco thought the flat needed some changes. It was nice, but James, his roommate, was really messy and didn’t have a taste for decoration at all. He arranged his ten cushions on the bed in an aesthetic way and carefully folded his cashmere blue blanket, placing it at the foot of the bed. Now it felt like home. 

He turned around and opened the wardrobe. Here was where things could get complicated. He couldn’t do with just half of it; he needed at least three quarters. He opened James’s side, the closest one to the window, and made space for his things. James’s taste in clothes was as lacking as his taste in decoration. He snorted when he found a Gryffindor scarf among his roommate’s things. He couldn’t resist putting his Slytherin one in a place where it was easily noticed. 

Done with the bedroom, he went to the kitchen to prepare some lunch. Having grown up in a pure-blood manor, he hadn’t had to cook in his life. Later, when he moved in with Michael, they had a house-elf that did all the chores too. Draco hadn’t had money then, but his boyfriend had an important job at Gringotts and had paid for everything.

He noticed how his eyes filled with tears. He missed Michael, but he had decided to not go back to him, and he should stick to his decision. Not that he could change his mind anyway, as the same day Michael had broken up with him, he had told Draco that he was dating someone else. It had been two weeks ago, and it hurt as much as that day. 

He tried to put all thoughts related to Michael away and focus on the food. He hadn’t bought anything, so he hoped James wouldn’t mind too much that he used his food to make himself a sandwich. He left a note apologising and promising to buy everything soon. 

He spent the rest of the day reading on the sofa, which was very comfortable, and buying the groceries he’d need for the rest of the week. He only cried once for Michael. 

The next day, he left early for work as he had to Apparate from London to a small village near the border with Scotland. When he finally arrived at the small potions shop, he was freezing and soaked due to the heavy rain that was falling. 

“You’re late, Malfoy,” Martin said as soon as he opened the front door. 

Three people worked for Mr. Smith in the small shop: Draco; Martin, an idiot that had been promoted to manager last month and now thought he was better than anyone; and Radwah, a bright young witch who was Draco’s only friend at work. 

“I’m just on time, arsehole,” he answered and went straight to the back room, where Radwah was already attending some potions. “Morning.”

“Hey, everything alright with our dear supervisor?” she asked as she removed the clear liquid from the cauldron in front of her. 

“I think he’ll fill out a report about me again.” Draco shrugged. “I finally found a new flat.”

“Really?” she exclaimed. “How is it?”

When Draco finished telling her about his living arrangements, Radwah began a two-hour story about how Draco and his secret roommate will fall in love in the most ridiculous of ways. 

* * *

_I used your bread and salad to make me a sandwich, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll refill it as soon as I can!_

_D._

_EDIT: I bought a new pack of bread for you and a chocolate frog as a thank you!_

Harry snorted at the note he had found stuck to the kitchen counter. He didn’t mind his new roommate eating his food; since the moment he had met Ron on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago, it always filled him with joy to have someone to share his food with. 

_I don’t mind at all, Dray, but thanks for letting me know. And thanks for the chocolate frog! They’re my favourite sweet._

_I made soup for like twelve people, so feel free to eat as much as you want._

_James_

He left the note stuck on top of Dray’s one and went to the bathroom. He had noticed small changes here and there all over his flat that showed that another person was living there now; however, nothing had prepared him for the bathroom. In the single shelf he had over the bathtub, there was now what looked like an entire apothecary of soaps, shampoos, and bottles, and Harry could only guess what they were for. He had trouble finding his small 2-in-1 gel that looked like an old man among all those other fancy bottles. 

When he went to the bedroom, he let out a gasp. Why would someone have so many cushions? And what was he supposed to do with all of them? He couldn’t leave them on the bed or he’d have to sleep on the floor, and throwing them to the floor didn’t feel like a nice thing to do. In the end, he put them at one side, under the soft blanket Dray had left on the bed, and went to sleep. 

*

“So how’s life with your bedmate?” Ron asked while he, Harry, and Hermione were having dinner the next day in a small restaurant. 

“Dray. It’s… weird,” Harry answered honestly. 

“Good weird or I-better-run-away weird?” Hermione asked. 

“Just weird. He has a lot of clothes and was a Slytherin, by the way — he made sure I saw his old scarf — and yesterday when I came home, I found flowers everywhere!” Harry said, before eating a good piece of his lasagna. 

“Flowers?” Ron asked with his eyebrows raised, as if he had never heard about something so strange as flowers. 

“Yes! There was a vase in the kitchen table, another one in a small blue cabinet he put next to the fridge, another one in a huge desk he brought, and another one in the bathroom! And don’t let me start on what he did in the kitchen! He reorganised everything because apparently, he was unable to find anything in it,” Harry ended with a shake of his head. 

“Well, you’re two people sharing a flat now. It’s normal he wants to put his touch there too,” Hermione said. 

“I know!” Harry said, making a placating movement with his hands. “It’s just weird.”

“Mate, your whole situation is weird. That the lad changed the place for the forks isn’t the strangest thing there.”

Harry had to agree with him. 

* * *

Draco put a spoonful of crushed newt eyes in the bubbling potion he was brewing, and took a step backwards so the purple smoke that left the cauldron didn’t burn him. 

“And you still don’t know who James is?” Radwah asked from the next table. 

“No idea,” Draco answered. “He doesn’t have pictures in the house, and I’m not going to look in his private things either!”

“I’d go nuts looking for something!” she said as she cleaned the table and readied it for the next brewing. 

“That’s because you’re a nosy bastard,” he said, smirking when she showed him her middle finger. “He’s kind of cute, though.”

“Kind of cute? Draco!” She let out a suffering sigh, her way of telling Draco that he needed to tell her absolutely everything. 

“He is! I did the laundry the other day and cleaned his clothes too, and the next day when I arrived from work, I found a note on the kitchen table thanking me and accompanied by a chocolate frog.” He smiled at the memory. He had had a not-so-nice night, as he had been thinking about Michael and about how he didn’t miss him that much anymore. It had been strange, as Michael used to be the centre of his life. But lately, he had felt happier, lighter, like the anxiety that had so often plagued him when he lived with his boyfriend was finally leaving. 

“That’s not kind of cute, that’s really cute,” Radwah said, emphasizing the last words. 

Draco was about to answer when the door opened and Martin entered, glaring at them. 

“Gossiping, are you?” he said, glaring at their potions. “Your boyfriend is here and wants to talk to you, Malfoy.” He turned and left for the front room. 

Draco stared at the door. Was Michael there? What would he want? Maybe Draco had forgotten something in his flat and he had come to return it? He swallowed and forced his legs to move. It wasn’t a good idea to make Michael wait for too long. 

“Dee!” Michael said with one of his bright smiles. 

He had forgotten how handsome Michael was. His smile looked almost out of place in the dark shop. His eyes, however, looked cold, like they had when he broke up with Draco. 

“Michael,” he greeted him. “What do you want?”

He could feel Martin’s avid eyes observing them from the other side of the room. Oddly enough, it made him feel safe. He knew Michael wouldn’t make a scene with someone else watching. 

“I want you to come back home. I miss you, Dee.” There was no cold in his eyes anymore, but love. That love that had made Draco felt wrapped and cared for so many times before. 

“And your boyfriend?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I dropped him. It’s us, Dee. I can’t leave you,” Michael said, making a movement as if to touch Draco’s hand, but Draco crossed his arms over his chest in that moment. 

In other times, Draco would have agreed. In other times, Draco would have melted with Michael’s words, soft eyes, and light touches, and he would have gone back to him. He had done that a lot of times. However, this time was different. This time, he had actually left Michael. He hadn’t stayed in his flat even after the breakup. This time, he had felt a freedom and a peace he hadn’t felt in years, and he wasn’t too stupid to put two and two together and come up with the right answer. He was better off without Michael. 

“I don’t want to go back. I’m happy now,” he said. 

Michael laughed. 

“Come on, Dee! You don’t know how to live on your own. It’s a wonder you’ve managed to be on time to work these days and, honey, who’s cooking for you? You don’t even know what a kitchen is!” Michael laughed again with that soft laugher of his that Draco loved so much. 

He couldn’t breath. Michael’s words were like a strong vice around his chest that got tighter and tighter. He used to joke about that, and Draco used to laugh. At how useless he was in cooking. At how he wouldn’t leave his bed in the mornings if Michael didn’t wake him up. But now… Draco had done all those things. He had proven he was capable. And Michael’s laugh and words didn’t make him laugh this time too. He felt tears in his eyes. 

“Hey, don’t cry, Dee,” Michael said, taking a step forward and touching Draco’s cheek.

He shook the hand away, and ran to the back room. Michael wouldn’t like that, but in that moment, Draco couldn’t do anything else. 

Radwah hugged him while he cried and thought over and over about how stupid he was being. 

* * *

_Good morning, James!_

_I was stressed today out of my mind (long story short: my ex visited me at work and I ended up crying. Sorry I’m very talkative and I tend to overshare). I’d normally brew some potions to calm down but I didn’t have any ingredients, so I decided that baking isn’t that different. I baked a bunch of Swiss buns, and although the first three batches burnt, this one was pretty good. Eat all you want!_

_Yours,_

_D._

Harry had found the note on the big tray full of golden Swiss buns Dray had left on the kitchen counter. He picked one up and bit it. It was the most delicious thing he had ever eaten. He decided to skip his usual dinner at 8 a.m. and had a coffee with as many of Dray’s buns as he could. 

_Hey! I hope you don’t mind I ate all of them, but they were delicious! I will buy you the flour and whatever else you need, but, please, bake them again some time._

_Relationships with the exes are never nice. I’m sorry._

_I’m going to make some roasted chicken for dinner, so I’ll do enough for both of us._

_xx_

_James_

*

The doorbell woke Harry up. Drinking coffee before going to sleep had been a novice mistake, so he had had problems falling asleep, which was why he was in such a bad mood when the insistent noise woke him up. 

He opened the door with more force than necessary and stared at the little postman, who tried to look over the big bouquet he was carrying. 

“Can I help you?” Harry asked, confused. 

“I bring this to someone called Dee that lives here. From Michael White,” the postman answered. 

“Dee?” Harry’s brain worked at a slow pace. “Ah! Yes, Dray! Of course!”

The man looked relieved that he was finally giving the bouquet to another person, and left in a hurry downstairs. 

Harry looked at the flowers. Michael White must be the ex, or a new boyfriend of Dray’s. He shrugged and left them on the living room table with a note. Then, seeing as he was already awake, he took a shower and left for his daily meeting with Ron and Hermione. 

*

Harry entered the room of his favourite patient. Obviously, he wasn’t allowed to have favourites, but the little werewolf girl reminded him too much of Teddy for him to be neutral. 

“Good evening, Sarah,” he said. Sarah and her parents smiled at him. “How are you today?”

“My big scar is itching again, and I howled when Healer Stevenson entered before, and he ran so fast he broke his nose against the wall,” she said, smiling and with her blue eyes shining. 

Harry laughed. 

“You howled?”

“Yes. He’s pretty stupid to be a Healer, isn’t he? It was midday! The full moon isn’t even near!” She giggled. 

Harry had to agree with her. Many of his coworkers at St Mungo’s were pretty stupid. The problem was not only that the other Healers were bigoted idiots, but that people in the Ministry had been working lately to create laws against werewolves. He sighed inwardly. 

“Let’s see your big scar, then,” he said. 

Sarah sat on the bed and turned so he could look at her back and her left shoulder, where a scar had ripped the skin and turned it into a mess the Healers had barely healed before the girl lost too much blood. 

“It looks too red. I’ll put that salve you love so much on it so the itching stops.” He waved his wand, and a little bottle came flying from a cabinet. 

“The one that smells like lavender?” Sarah exclaimed. “Ugh! I hate that cream! You should give me one that isn’t that one, as I’m your favourite patient.”

“What?” Harry started rubbing the scar with the salve. “Excuse me, but my favourite patient is Mr. Robinson next door.”

“Liar.”

“Mr. Robinson is very nice, you know.”

“Not as nice as I am.”

“He gifted me a dead cactus once.”

“Okay, I’ve never gifted you something as pretty as that.”

“Knew it.”

After some small talk, he left the room to visit his next patient. It would be easy to help Sarah and others like her. If only they had the money to buy the potions they use in other countries. 

* * *

_Someone called Michael sent these flowers for you. James_

Draco had arrived home after a long day at work, and the last thing he needed was a bouquet sent by Michael. He looked at the note attached to the flowers. Michael said he loved him and wanted him to go back home. Draco cast a drying spell at the flowers and then vanished everything to the bin. Home was no longer Michael’s big flat. Home was his small shared flat with James. 

He went straight to the bathroom and decided to take a long bath. He picked one of the books James kept there for when he was on the toilet, and forgot about his problems while the warm water relaxed his muscles and his mind got lost in the romantic novel he had chosen. 

_Do you think Martha and Carl will realise they’re in love before the wedding? D._

He left the note stuck to the book and called his friends. He needed a bit of support. 

“He did what?” Pansy said, eyes half closed with fury. 

“Oh! Are we allowed to criticise that bastard at last?” Greg asked, picking a biscuit from the dish Draco had served on the kitchen table. 

“Yes, you are,” Draco answered. “How do you think he knows I live here?”

“No idea,” Pansy said. “You didn’t tell him or let it slip in front of him?”

“Of course not. I didn’t see him those last weeks, and living here was kind of a last moment decision.”

“That man is…” Greg left the sentence unfinished and made his knuckles crack. He looked at the floor and his brow furrowed. “What’s this?” He had picked a note from the floor. “It says: ‘Sorry I didn’t do the dishes this morning, I’ll clean everything when I’m back from work. James’.”

“We leave notes to each other.” Draco shrugged. It had become so normal for him, that he hadn’t thought that other roommates didn’t have tiny notes all over their flats talking about day-to-day things and some other deeper stuff. 

“Cute,” Pansy said. “Please tell me you don’t have feelings for this James man!”

“He’s nice! And he makes me dinner every day. I don’t love him, if that’s what you’re thinking, but we’re friends.”

“You don’t even know him!” Greg exclaimed. “The man wants to share his bed with you. Maybe he smells it when he arrives home.”

“Ew!” Pansy made a face of disgust. “Don’t say that!”

“James doesn’t do that!” Draco defended his roommate. 

“How do you know if you haven’t met the weirdo?” Greg insisted. 

Draco rolled his eyes, and readied himself to defend James once more. The conversation kept going like that for a few hours, and Draco went to bed that night feeling a lot better than how he had felt that morning. 

* * *

_Martha and Carl are in love??? Don’t spoil the books for me, you bastard! I’m still on the first chapter. Personally, I like Ben better, but I have a thing for blonds so that may be it._

_And speaking about blonds, don’t leave hairs in the bathtub, ew!_

_James_

Harry signed the note and went back to the kitchen, where Ron and Hermione were having breakfast next to his morning dinner. 

“Can you eat those pork chops at the other side of the table?” Hermione asked as soon as she saw him. “The smell is making me sick. It’s too early for food.”

“Fine!” Harry took his dish as far as he could. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you. So, how are things at work? Any advances on the Wolfsbane Potion?” she asked. 

“No. The hospital refuses to buy the potion other hospitals are using because they say it’s too expensive, and that someone here can come up with the right ingredients any moment now. However, we need money for it, and I think I’m the only one that worries about it,” Harry said.

“You’ll need a potion master for it,” Ron said. “It can't be that expensive to contact one and ask them, right?”

“Making a whole new potion is hard, Ron,” Hermione said. “The Wolfsbane they’re using takes all the suffering away, even during the transformation. I don’t think it’s just an improved Wolfsbane, but something entirely new.”

“Sarah will have her first transformation soon, and she’s so small…” Harry said. 

“She’ll be fine, mate. Will she stay at St Mungo’s for it?”

“Yes, the first time they always stay, then they go home.”

“And speaking of home, how are things with Dray?” Hermione said, and Harry guessed it was her attempt of cheering him up a little, as talking about the potion always made him sad. 

“Pretty good. He’s very easy to live with, although I suspect he’s fattening me up with all the cakes he bakes.”

“And the bedsharing?” Ron asked, smirking. 

“We don’t sleep there at the same time!” Harry said for the hundredth time. “It’s good too. We have our side, and don’t touch each other’s things. Besides, he’s pretty funny and cute.”

“Hermione, I think our dear ickle Harry is developing a crush on his bedmate.”

* * *

On the kitchen counter:

_That roasted chicken was amazing, James! I baked cake today. The middle is a bit gross, but the rest I think is pretty good! Tell me what you think._

_D._

On the kitchen table, next to a dish with a piece of cake and scattered crumbs:

_Best. Cake. Ever. I’m going to get fat if you keep baking like this, but you know what? I don’t care. This is too good._

_James_

On the living room table:

_Use a coaster when you drink here. It’s disgusting to see the table all dirty._

_Do you like the new flowers? I thought you’d love them as they’re red and gold._

_D._

On the living room table, on top of the last note:

_I love the new flowers. I think you’d have trouble finding them in silver and green, wouldn’t you? What’s with all the flowers by the way?_

_James_

Stuck to the last note:

_Are you challenging me? You’re in to lose to the prettiest silver flowers you’ll ever see! Flowers are pretty and make a house a home, James. This is basic household knowledge, were you raised in a barn?_

_D._

On Draco’s desk, stuck to a book titled _Modern Potions_ :

_I saw your books (all about potions, don’t you like anything else?), and thought you’d like this one too. Happy birthday, roomie!_

_James_

On the kitchen table, next to a tray of Swiss buns:

_Thanks thanks thanks thanks so much! It’s the best birthday present I’ve received this year! I hope you like my way of thanking you._

_I love potions! It was one of my favourite subjects in school ~~although that may be because I got to see my crush there,~~ and I work in a potions shop now._

_D._

On the bed:

_What’s that thing on the ceiling? And why are there like twenty tiny mirrors on the wall???_

_Very confused,_

_James_

On the wall, next to the myriad of mirrors:

_James, honey, I’ll start with the easiest first. The mirrors are called style. I’m sorry to be the one saying this, but before I came to live here, this flat was lacking personality and had a serious problem with decorations. Our little mirrors are making up for it._

_The “thing on the ceiling” is a lamp, and it’s beautiful! Don’t you love how it looks like luminous small flowers or butterflies? And if you don’t like it, I’m sorry, but here’s the deal: we keep this lamp in the bedroom, and I allow you to keep your two sad light bulbs in the kitchen._

_In a very fashionable way,_

_D._

On the bedroom floor:

_There’s nothing wrong with my two light bulbs! They’re stylish too! How trendy is it to not have a proper lamp?? Very!_

_P.S. I folded your towels and left them on the bathroom cabinet._

_James_

On the kitchen table:

_After all this time living together, I feel like I know you a lot and that we’re friends, although we haven’t met before. That’s why I feel like I’ve been lying to you. Well, technically I haven’t lied, as it’s my name, or a nickname, more like. Anyway. My real, full name is Draco Lucius Malfoy._

_I’d understand if you want me to leave. I’m sorry, James._

D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Bathroom

Draco Malfoy. Harry had been sharing his flat, his life, with Draco Malfoy. He unfolded the note where Dray, Drac-, Malf-, Dray had written his confession and stared at it. One part of Harry wanted to snap and throw him out of his house. But a bigger one refused. He was Dray, after all. He liked his roommate a lot, and maybe had started to develop a small crush on him. Of course, he couldn’t forget that Dray had lied to him, or had hidden the truth. Names weren’t necessary in magical contracts, so Dray hadn’t felt the need to say his. 

And neither had Harry. If he wanted to get angry at Dray for not telling him the truth, so could Dray about him. As he had written in the note, technically he hadn’t lied. Technically, James was part of Harry's name too, even if no one knew in his life called him that.

Making up his mind, he left a note for his roommate on the kitchen table. 

*

Harry left Mr. Robinson’s room with a grimace. The old man was as unpleasant as ever. He shook his head and went to the next room, where Sarah was. 

“Good evening,” he greeted. “How are you feeling today?”

“Everything hurts, and that potion is worse than your lavender salve,” the little girl answered. 

“The potion is going to work, right?” Sarah’s mother asked. 

“Of course. The only problem now is the pain she’s going to go through. We’re trying our best to relieve it, but werewolf transformations are very painful.” Harry turned and looked in the cabinet for something to ease Sarah’s pains. When he found it, he turned again. “Here. Drink this. It doesn’t taste like lavender, promise.”

“It tastes worse, doesn’t it?” Sarah said with suspicious eyes. 

“Drink it to find out.”

Sarah took the bottle from him and drank, still glancing at him with her eyes untrusting. 

“So? How was it?” Harry asked with a smile when she had swallowed the last drops. 

“It tastes almost good. I’m glad to see I’m your favourite patient again. I guess I can’t give you the dead spider I had wrapped for you.”

“What a pity. Well, favourite patient, I have to go visit Mrs. Williams now.” 

Harry made sure all was in order with Sarah’s pillows and sheets, and left to see his next patient. If he focused on his job hard enough, he could almost forget about the note he had left at home and about the fear it caused him to think about what he’ll find when he arrived home. 

* * *

_I’m not going to lie and say I’m not hurt that you didn’t tell me your real name. However, I understand why you did it. You’re wrong in what you said, though. I also feel like we’re friends after all this time, but we’ve met before. You aren’t the only one that came with a fake name for this arrangement, you see? My real, full name is Harry James Potter._

_I understand if you don’t want to keep living with me, but I have no problem with you living here._

_Harry_

Pansy burst out laughing when she finished reading the note, and Greg had a stupid smile on his face. Draco wanted to slap them and to curse Potter. Potter! He had been living with Potter!

“Let’s look on the bright side,” Greg said.

“And what’s that?” Draco glared at him. 

“Your fifteen-year-old self must be jumping with happiness at sleeping in the same bed as Potter,” Greg said, with that silly smile still on his lips. 

Draco felt how his cheeks blushed. His crush on Potter had been legendary back at school. He doubted there was a Slytherin in their class that hadn’t heard about it. 

“Shut up,” he said. “What do I do now? I can’t keep living here after this! He’s Potter, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Can’t you?” Pansy asked, wiping her laughing tears with her hand. “You like living here, and, honestly, I haven’t seen you this happy in years. What difference does it make that ‘James’ is Potter?”

“All the difference!” he exclaimed, standing up from the living room sofa where they were sitting. “All the difference, don’t you see it? It’s Potter!”

“But you like Potter,” Greg pointed out. “And I’m not talking about your crush now. I’m talking about the weird thing you have with him here, with the bed, the notes and all that.”

“I like James. I have an enemies relationship with Potter,” he said, and let his body drop to the floor with his back against the wall. 

“Potter doesn’t think that.” Pansy waved the note she was still holding. “Draco, we’re past our school years, we’re mature now. This isn’t going to devolve into a magic duel in the living room if you ever run into Potter now.”

“Exactly!” Greg said. “You’ve been living here for two months now and haven’t seen the man once. Why would that change now?”

“Because now I know who he is!” Draco glared at his friend. “I can’t forget that I’m sharing a flat with Harry fucking Potter.”

“Fucking Harry Potter is what you wish you were doing,” Pansy muttered loud enough for Draco to hear. 

“Can you take this seriously?” Draco asked. Sometimes, he thought that strangling Pansy wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Fine,” she said, making a surrender gesture with her hands. “Do you like living here?”

“Yes, but —”

“Are you happy here?”

“Yes, but —”

“Do you want to live with me or with Greg?”

“No, but —”

“Do you want to move to that old, mouldy, cheap flat we visited in Knockturn Alley, or with that man that looked like he hadn’t taken a shower since 1960?”

“No, but —”

“You stay here, and get on with Potter. You’ll be fine,” she said with a smile

“Fine. Okay. You’re right. I’ll let him know that I’m okay with him being Potter,” Draco muttered, still unconvinced that he was making the right decision. 

* * *

_I can’t believe we have been living together all this time, Potter. I can hear our younger selves screaming in distress at this, can’t you? If you don’t mind, I’ll stay here. After all, I love this flat, and against all odds, you’re not as bad a flatmate as I would have thought, and your food is pretty good._

_D._

Harry read the note thrice in a row before letting out a relieved sigh. He didn’t know why Malfoy staying made him so relieved, but he supposed he had gotten used to sharing his flat with the git after all this time, and the truth was that he really liked having him as a roommate. 

“Morning, Harry!” Ron said from the door. He and Hermione had just arrived for their morning breakfast-dinner. “I bring croissants and Chinese food for you. It’s from last night, but I think it’s still good.”

“Hey! Thanks.”

They prepared the table while Hermione talked about some Ministry gossip, and Harry thought that he should tell his friends about what he had learned about his flatmate in the last days. 

“Harry? Are you listening to what I’m saying?” Hermione asked with her eyebrows furrowed. It wasn’t a good idea to zone out while she talked. 

“No, sorry. I have something to tell you, and I don’t know how you’re going to react,” he said, which immediately made Hermione’s eyebrows relax. 

“What happened? Problems with your bedmate?” Ron asked. 

“Not a problem per se… I know who he is.”

“Oh! Do we know him too?” 

“It’s Malfoy.”

“Malfoy!?” Ron shouted. 

Hermione looked at him with her mouth agape and a piece of croissant in halfway to her mouth. 

“And that’s not a problem, how?” Ron asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.

“I like living with him, and he says it’s fine too.”

“He says it’s fine? He knows who you are too?” Hermione finally snapped out of her astonishment. “Was this one of those notes of yours?”

“Yes. He said so in one, and I told him I’m me in another. It felt like the right thing to do. But… do you think this is too weird?” Harry bit his bottom lip and looked at his friends. 

“Malfoy and you living together and you thinking he’s cute, and funny, and sleeping in the same bed as him? No, Harry, it’s normal and it isn’t going to end in disaster,” Ron said with his eyes still very open, which made him look like a crazy man. 

“He’s still Dray!” Harry said, emphasising his words with a hand movement that sent his dish flying to the floor. “Fuck!”

He got up to fix the mess at the same time that the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll answer!” Ron said. 

“Were you expecting a visit?” Hermione said, as Harry cleaned everything with a few spells.

“No. Maybe it’s the postman or something.” He shrugged. 

They heard Ron’s voice getting louder, and then a bang as the door was closed with too much force. 

“That isn’t the postman,” Hermione said. 

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed when he went back to the kitchen. “Who the fuck is Michael?”

“Dray’s ex. Malfoy, I mean.”

“The bloke almost pushed me out of the door to enter. He wanted to see if Malfoy was here, and when I told him he wasn’t, he told me I wasn’t good enough for him.” Ron shook his head and sat on his chair again. “I had to remind him that he couldn’t go inside other people's houses without their permission, but he was out of his mind.”

“He was the one who broke up with Malfoy,” Harry said. “I don’t know why he insists so much now.”

“Because he’s a jealous prick,” Ron answered. “Seriously, I have seen this before. Tell Malfoy to be careful and to call the Aurors if something happens.”

Harry didn’t think it was so worrisome, but if Ron said so, he wasn’t about to not believe his friend. His protective instinct was very happy Draco was still living with him. 

* * *

Draco was finishing telling Radwah about the Harry Potter mess the next day at work when Martin shouted at them to get back to work, causing Draco to drop a very valuable potion. 

“You idiot!” he snapped at Martin. “You should learn manners! Screaming doesn’t make you right, don’t you know that?”

“You’re paying that potion from your salary, Malfoy.”

“Are you our boss now?” Radwah asked angrily.

“I’m your supervisor,” he said with that superior air that made Draco want to curse him. 

“Then fuck off and let as work, supervisor,” Draco snarled. 

Martin huffed and left for the front again. 

“Ugh! I can’t stand him! One day, Draco, I swear I’m going to curse him so hard he won’t be able to talk for a month!”

“Same,” Draco said. “ _Reparo!_ ”

He fixed the bottle, and with some other more complicated spells he managed to restore most of the potion too. 

“Pansy, Greg, and I are going out this evening for drinks. Do you want to join us?” he said, as he got the potion station ready for the brewing of a Pepper-Up Potion.

“You know I don’t drink alcohol,” Radwah said, weighting some frog brains. 

“You can drink water. Why are you always so difficult? Besides, don’t you want to see Greg?” he smirked at her. 

“Not especially,” she said with a bored voice, but the blush that had appeared on her cheeks didn’t fool Draco. 

“Sure. We’ll meet at 8 in the Crossroads Pub,” he said, as he crushed the bicorn horns in the mortar. 

“At 7 in your flat. I want to see it,” Radwah said, as she caused a small explosion when she added the frog brains to her potion. 

*

_I’m sorry about Michael, I hope Weasley is okay. And you don’t have to go full hero mode on me, Potter. Michael isn’t dangerous._

_Can I call you Harry? When you were James, we were on a first name basis._

_D._

He left the note on Harry’s bedside table, and turned around to look at himself in the wall mirror. He was wearing a silver shirt that maybe was a bit too much for an outing with friends, but it had been a while since they had gone out and he had the chance to dress up. He shrugged and went to the living room to wait for Radwah, although he hadn’t had to wait too long, as she rang as soon as he sat on the sofa. 

“It’s cute,” she said, looking around the living room. 

“I told you so.”

“Aren’t you going to show me the infamous bed?”

“It's just a bed.”

“That you share with Harry Potter.”

Draco cursed under his breath and guided her to their bedroom. It was weird thinking about Harry Potter sleeping in the same bed as him. It was easier when he thought of him as James. 

“Perfect. Do you sleep on his side to let your dark, kinky imagination fly?”

“Why don’t you shut up already?”

“Because you love me when I talk.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m your best friend.”

“You’re just my coworker. You’re on the same level as Martin.”

“I’m what!?”

“Okay. You’re a bit higher up. You’re an… acquaintance.”

“That’s worse.”

“Then be nice.”

Radwah stuck out her tongue to him. 

*

The pub was full when they arrived, but luckily Pansy and Greg had reserved them some chairs. 

“We’ve already ordered,” Pansy said as a greeting, and pointed to the beers and chips in front of them.

“I’ll go to the bar and order something for us. What do you want, Draco?” Radwah asked. 

“Beer is fine too, thanks,” he answered before taking a seat in front of Pansy. “Are you going to ask her out already, Greg?”

“What?” Draco smiled at seeing how his friend blushed. “No, of course not!” Greg muttered something else and took a sip of his beer. 

Pansy and Draco sniggered. Radwah joined them moments after, and the four of them spent a nice time talking about Pansy’s problems buying from a fashion magazine, criticising Martin, and joking about Greg’s coworkers. 

“Let’s talk about the big news now,” Pansy said some time later. “Potter.”

“I think we have talked about it a lot already,” Draco drawled. 

“Not enough, dear, not enou— What’s he doing here?” Pansy’s eyes had become cold, and her gaze was fixed at one point behind Draco and Radwah. 

They turned around. For a moment, Draco thought she was talking about Potter, but it was just a man that looked a bit like him. Then he saw him; it was Michael, who had seen them too and was striding toward them. 

“Dee. I want to talk to you,” he said, standing just in front of Draco, serious. Draco swallowed. He didn't need this right now. 

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to you?” Pansy asked in a glacial tone. 

“Dee?” Michael ignored her. “It’s important. You haven’t answered my letters, and we need to talk about your boyfriend.”

“What are you doing here?” Greg asked, standing up. He was bigger than Michael, but he ignored him too, as he had done with Pansy. 

“Can you leave us alone?” Michael looked at his friends like they were dirt, and Draco knew he wasn’t going to give up until he had what he had come to get. 

“Leave us, it won’t be long,” Draco said, smiling reassuringly at them when they left for another table. Michael sat down in Pansy’s chair. “What do you want? And how do you know where I live?”

“That’s not important right now. Why are you so thick, Draco?” Michael never called him by his name except when he was angry. “Why can’t you see that we’ll be fine together if you come back home?”

“I’m fine now. And it was you who told me to go away in the first place,” Draco said, crossing his arms.

“And that redhead? You’re dropping me for that redhead?” Michael’s eyes flashed with barely contained fury. “Don’t you have any respect left for yourself?”

“I’m not dropping you,” Draco talked through clenched teeth. “You broke up with me. This is what you get. Or do you think I’m going to crawl back to you every time you get tired of me?”

“You’re lost without me. You can’t even choose a nice flat. You’re pretty useless when living on your own, Dee.” 

Michael looked intently at him, and Draco felt himself break into a million tiny pieces. This had happened before. Lots of times. Michael reminded Draco of how useless he was, and Draco broke a little and agreed with him. Michael cupped Draco’s face over the table, and he stayed still, afraid of moving and fearing what Michael was about to do. He didn’t want to be with him. He didn’t want Michael to kiss him. However, he seemed unable to move, and so Michael’s lips captured his for what felt like an eternity. 

“I’ll see you soon, Dee,” Michael whispered when he pulled apart. “At your flat, in a few weeks, okay? I have a business trip now, but then we’ll talk about this, about us.”

Draco felt tears run down his cheeks, before a pair of arms hugged him and three voices whispered calming words in his ears. 

*

He woke up late the next morning. He had slept with his clothes on, so he took them off and went hurriedly to the bathroom for a quick shower to clear his mind. He realised too late that he wasn’t alone in the bathroom. 

* * *

_I’ve been calling you Draco in my mind these past days because Malfoy is that prat at school and not the flatmate that bakes the best buns and cakes, so, sure, call me Harry. I’ll try my best to keep my hero instincts at bay, but you know me: I can’t._

_I changed the sheets, and I was thinking about buying a new duvet. Any style preferences, oh, your fashionable highness?_

_Harry_

_P.S. I began the second book of Martha and Carl, at last. They’re having babies!! I can’t believe this!_

Harry left the note just before leaving for work. He had one of those shifts ahead that lasted way too long and left him completely knackered. However, it was full moon night, so he was glad he’d be at the hospital, as his worry for Sarah had only grown in the past days. 

He went straight to the girl’s room, where he found her with her worried parents. She looked too pale, and she kept grimacing in pain. 

“How are you feeling today?” he asked softly. He hated this part of his work, seeing his patients in pain and being unable to help them. He had thought that becoming a Healer would keep his saviour heart happy, but he hadn’t realised that he wouldn’t be able to save everyone.

“Everything hurts,” she said in a small voice. 

“Isn’t there anything you can do to help her?” her mother asked. Her eyes were red, and her face looked tired and old, even if she was only a few years older than Harry.

“There’s not too much we can do now, sorry,” Harry said, wishing he could offer more comfort. “During the full moon, it’ll be better. She won’t feel any pain at all. It’s just the transformation that makes her feel like this, and, sadly, we don’t have anything that can help her now.”

“I’m still here!” Sarah piped up. “Don’t talk about me as if I can’t hear you!”

“Sorry, honey,” her mother said, kissing her on the cheek. 

“Sorry.” Harry smiled. “I’m going to visit others now, but I’ll come to help you at moonrise, alright?”

Sarah nodded with another grimace, and her parents hurried to help her. Harry left, feeling useless, wanting the potion the hospital refused to buy more than ever. 

“Good evening, Mrs. Williams, how are you?” he said as he entered the old lady’s room.

“Good, good. Look what I knitted for you,” she said, showing him a green scarf. 

“That’s for me? Thanks so much!” It always made him happy when his patients gave him small presents. He felt like he was doing something good, even if he couldn’t heal them, if they felt the need to thank him with gifts. Except for Mr. Robinson, of course. 

“Try it on, dear,” she said with a bright smile. “I think green looks good in you. Because of your eyes, you know.”

Harry wrapped the scarf around his neck. It was a very hot July, so it made him uncomfortable, but he’d do anything for Mrs. Williams to smile again. 

“How do I look?”

“Dashing! I’m sure all the young ladies would fall for you when you wear my scarf,” she said proudly. 

“I’m sure too,” Harry said, taking it off and folding it carefully. He looked at the scarf and thought about the woman’s words. He felt how his smile faltered. 

“Are you alright, dear?” Mrs. Williams asked with concern. “Oh! There’s a young lady, isn’t there? And you think she doesn’t like you.”

Harry smiled at how perceptive the woman was. 

“It’s a young gentleman, I’m afraid,” Harry said. There was something about her that made him trust her with his secrets. “We live together, you know. And I’m starting to really like him, but we have a history, a not so nice one at that, so...it’s complicated.”

“Have you told him you like him?”

“Of course not!” The thought made Harry blush furiously. Draco would laugh at him. 

“So then how do you know he doesn’t like you or that he thinks it’s complicated too? Talking is key, dear. My Sybille and I always talked about everything, and we were very happy together.”

“I’ll talk to him. Promise.” He smiled, and the old woman smiled back. 

He visited other patients in the ward, leaving Mr. Robinson for the end as he didn’t want to deal with him so early in his shift. As usual, the man insulted him and reminded him of how great the Dark Lord’s reign had been. Harry attended him in silence, as he wasn’t in the mood to discuss. 

At around 10 p.m., he went back to Sarah’s room, carrying a cup with Wolfsbane in it. The girl took it, and after making sure she was fine in her bed, he and her parents left the room, locking the door just in case. The screams Sarah let out during the transformation could be heard in the whole ward, and many patients left their rooms to see what was happening. Sarah’s parents hugged each other, crying. After a while, the screams stopped, and they didn’t hear anything again until morning, when Sarah transformed back to human. 

When the screams ceased, they opened the door, and found Sarah curled in bed, crying. 

*

Harry had done what he could to calm Sarah and her parents. She wasn’t in pain, but she was still scared. Exhausted, Harry sent a message to Ron and Hermione to tell them that he was too tired for their usual breakfast-dinner. When he arrived home, he went straight to the bathroom. 

He was so focused on his shower that he didn’t realise the bathroom door had been opened until he heard a gasp. He opened the curtains and stared at Draco Malfoy, who was standing in the door with his mouth agape, only wearing pants.

Harry hadn’t seen Draco since after the trials, and then he had looked like a scrawny, scared child. The Draco he was seeing now looked nothing like that. He was thin too, but in a healthy way. His skin was very pale, and Harry caught himself wishing to touch it to see if it was as smooth as it looked. His platinum hair was in disarray; he had probably just gotten out of bed. His grey eyes were bright and had dark circles under them. Tiny freckles were scattered on his shoulders, and thin, almost invisible, scars crossed his chest. He had a mole next to his left nipple. 

A second too late, Harry realised that he was naked. 

“Uh, Draco… the towel!” He hid behind the shower curtain, and Draco seemed to snap out of his staring too, as he turned to find the towel. 

“Sorry! I fell asleep, I didn’t hear you!” Draco said. Harry’s heart did a weird jump at hearing his voice. It had been so long since the last time he had heard that drawled voice. 

“Here!”

A pale hand appeared in the shower holding a towel. Harry grabbed the towel, and the hand disappeared. 

“I’ll be in the bedroom!”

“I’m going to the bedroom to get dressed!”

“Ah, fuck! The living room! Well, I’ll leave! Bye!”

Harry heard the door close, and breathed. He had gotten hard at seeing Draco. He really hoped the other man hadn’t noticed. 

He took a few minutes to relax and to think of what he’d say if Draco hadn't left for work. He had imagined many times how it would be if they met sometime, but this hadn’t been a situation he had thought of before. 

After he was dressed and went to the kitchen to eat, he realised that he was alone in the flat. 

* * *

Draco closed the flat door and ran downstairs. He could still feel his cheeks blushing, and his dick was hard, even though it had been a really embarrassing — and delightful — encounter. Harry was more beautiful than he remembered. He had grown up a few inches and was less thin than during the war. Draco saw a scar on his chest he didn’t know he had, and a birthmark on his shoulder that looked like a flower. He had tried not to look, of course, but he couldn’t help but to glance at his cock too. A smile turned Draco’s mouth upwards. He could get used to that sight every morning. 

“Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully as he entered the shop. 

“Morning,” Radwah said, weary. “Are you okay?”

“I just saw Harry Potter naked, so yes, I’m very good.”

“You what!?”

“My dear flatmate was taking a shower, and I saw him. Radwah, it was glorious. It wiped last night out of my mind.”

Radwah laughed, and pestered him for more details all morning. Yes, he definitely could get used to that. 


	4. The Living Room

On the living room sofa:

_I’m so sorry for this morning. I thought you had left for work already. I don’t think there’s a way around this in which we don’t feel embarrassed, right? So I think the best is we ignore it and go on with our lives._

_Totally dressed,_

_Harry_

On the living room table:

_The sight was quite good, so I don’t think you should feel embarrassed about it. I had a horrible night (Michael went to the pub my friends and I were, and he was… not nice at all), so that’s why I fell asleep. I had drunk way too much too. Waking up to a naked you cheered my morning a lot. So thanks, Harry, we can repeat anytime :P_

_Totally aroused,_

_D._

On the living room table, next to the last note:

_I’m going to ignore all you said in that note because no way I’m talking about this ever again in my life. Maybe when I’m senile._

_I’m sorry about Michael, and please remember what Ron said! The bloke seems like an abusive prick._

_Harry_

_PS You’re not bad at all either._

On the living room table, on top of a small pile of books:

_Is this what our notes are for now? To flirt? How the mighty had fallen, I expected something else from the Chosen One._

_Michael is an idiot, not an abuser like those who hit their partners._

_D._

On the living room sofa, under a cushion:

_I’m not flirting with you, you idiot! The arrogance of some people!_

_Okay, you know him better, but, please, be careful! I’m too used to you now to lose you to that idiot. I don’t think I can do the shower thing for other flatmates._

_Harry_

On Draco’s cashmere blanket on the bed:

_You left your last note under a cushion. How do you expect me to find it when you hide them? Luckily I was in a cleaning mood._

_So the bathroom thing was on purpose! I knew it! I should have listened to Pansy and Greg when they said only a perv would want to share his bed with an unknown person._

_This duvet is awful. It has drawings! What are we? Six?_

_D._

On Draco’s bedside table:

_Now you know my little secret. Although YOU agreed on sharing a bed with an unknown person, what does that make you?_

_The duvet is fun! You’re just too boring to see it._

_Harry_

On the kitchen table:

_Boring!? BORING!? Excuse me, but I’m the life of the party! I tell the best jokes and the best stories! Boring, he says! Hmf!_

_I baked a Sacher cake today. It’s in the fridge. That it’s your birthday today has nothing to do with it, of course._

_D._

_PS I was so indignant at you calling me boring that I forgot to reply to your accusation: that makes me a desperate man with no money._

Stuck to the fridge door:

_The cake was delicious. Thanks so much!! And thanks for your present too! These jumpers are so soft! I love them!_

_I had a bad day at work today. I don’t know if I’ve told you, but I’m a Healer. One of my patients is a werewolf and the pains she has to go through… I wish there was a way to help her, and there is! But the hospital refuses to buy the potion they’re using in other countries, saying that someone here will come with the way to brew it so it’d be free. But the current laws don’t encourage anyone to do it, right? Sorry, I’m rambling. Thanks for everything. It really made my day better._

_Harry_

On the kitchen table:

_You’re really as idiotic as you look, aren’t you? Or did you forget I work with potions? I’m not a fan of werewolves, but I could try. I have read about it, and I don’t think it can be very difficult to discover all the ingredients and brew it. Are you free this Saturday? We could meet here and talk about it._

_And please, come fully dressed. I’m a fan of your body, but it could be really distracting :p_

_D._

* * *

Draco left work early that Tuesday, so he, Pansy, and Greg met in a café in Diagon Alley to enjoy the summer afternoon together. 

“Are you alright?” Pansy asked as soon as he arrived. She had asked him that every day after that horrible encounter with Michael. 

“Yes.” Pansy glared at him, and Draco finally surrendered to her and decided to admit what had been on his mind since that moment. “No, and I think… Do you think that I should… I mean...”

“What?” Greg asked. “I’m not understanding anything.”

Draco took a deep breath. 

“Do you think I should talk to someone about Michael? Like a Mind Healer or something like that? I’ve been thinking about our relationship and how he made me feel, and about what Weasley and Harry say, and… well, what if they’re right? What if it was… abuse?” He said the last word with a grimace. It was a serious accusation, and part of him was still sure it wasn’t that, but it couldn’t be right that his relationship felt like a suffocating place where he couldn’t be himself around Michael. 

“I think you should,” Pansy quickly said, wrapping his hand in hers. “I don’t know what he did to you, but what he did the other night wasn’t right, and I know you weren’t happy when you were together.”

“I was,” Draco tried to defend himself. 

“You weren’t, Draco,” Greg said in a quiet voice. “I have known you since we were three, and I only had seen you that anxious during the war.”

“I had fun with him too!” Draco said. “We did a lot of things together, and I have very good memories of my time with him. You don’t know everything. I liked him. I loved him.”

“You didn’t tell us, and we couldn’t see you alone. He was always there too,” Pansy said in a harsh voice. Then her expression softened and so did her voice. “Look, we’re not saying you didn’t like him, but you were also miserable. We could see how nervous you became when you said something you thought he wouldn’t like, or how he looked at you sometimes, like he owned you.”

Draco opened his mouth to protest. He had thought all that too, but somehow hearing Pansy and Greg saying it made it sound a thousand times worse. 

“I think a Mind Healer is a good idea,” Greg said. “They’ll help you better than us.”

“Yeah,” Draco said. “I think so too.” He took a sip of his pumpkin juice, and after a few minutes of silence he spoke again. “I’m meeting Harry this Saturday.”

Pansy choked on her tea, and Greg had to pat her on the back until she recovered. 

“You what?” she finally asked, with her voice raspy and tears falling down her cheeks. 

“You heard me.” Draco was immensely enjoying the effect his words had had. “I’m going to help him with some potions.”

“Pans, I think we’re going to hear a lot about Potter again,” Greg said. Then he took a bite of his pastry. 

“Me too. This will be like ten years ago and his ranting about the Yule Ball,” Pansy said. 

“It wasn’t that bad!” Draco protested, but nobody paid attention to him. 

“Are you nervous?” Pansy asked. 

“Yes, but after seeing him naked the other day, I don’t think it’ll be that bad, you know?” 

“You what!?” Pansy and Greg screamed at the same time, making Draco laugh, and he told them everything about that delightful encounter in the bathroom. 

* * *

Harry was nervous. He was outside his own flat but he didn’t dare go inside. Should he ring the doorbell or just enter? During the weekends, the flat was Draco’s, so he didn’t know if he had any right to just go inside. On the other hand, it felt ridiculous to knock on his own door. 

Taking a deep breath, he approached the door and knocked. It seemed like the polite thing to do. 

“Oh, you’re already here! Great!” 

The drawling voice came from behind. He turned and there he was, as perfect as he had pictured him in his mind. He was wearing a white shirt and jeans. The Muggle attire looked very good on him. His hair was less messy than the last time Harry had seen him, but it looked like Draco had messed it on purpose, in a way Harry couldn’t imitate with his own hair. He was also carrying two bags, so Harry hurried to take one. 

“Thanks,” Draco said. “I needed to buy some groceries, and I bought some potions books too that I think might help us today.”

They went inside the flat, and while Draco went to the kitchen to put everything he had bought away, Harry sat on the living room armchair feeling very awkward. 

“Okay.” Draco returned with two bottles of butterbeer and two coasters he placed on the table. “So, where do you want us to begin?”

“You’re the potions expert, as you so kindly reminded me in your note,” Harry said. “Shouldn’t you know that?”

“Idiot.” Draco took a sip of his butterbeer and glanced at him. “Are you feeling as awkward as I do, or are you more comfortable?”

Harry snorted. 

“This is so weird!” he said. “I think I’m only now realising that you and I are living together. It’s different now that we’re both here, because usually, I only know you live in the flat when I see your things or read your notes.”

“Yeah,” Draco said, laughing. Harry noticed he liked his laugh; it was a sound he wasn’t used to hearing but he could get used to it easily. “I knew you were my flatmate, but now it’s like getting hit in the head with the idea.”

Harry nodded. That was exactly how he felt too. He hoped that soon enough they could be as friendly as they were in the notes. 

“Can I ask you something I’ve been wondering since I learned you were my flatmate?” Draco asked suddenly. 

“Of course.”

“Aren’t you rich? Why do you need to rent your bed?”

“Merlin! Not you too! You pay for the whole flat, not just the bed!” Harry exclaimed. It really bothered him that people thought he was a weirdo for his flat-sharing idea. 

Draco laughed. 

“You know what I meant! If you don’t mind answering,” he added after a second.

“I have enough money,” Harry said, “but I spent a good amount of it for Hogwarts and then with my Healer courses. I also began a renovation at Grimmauld Place — the house I inherited from Sirius — but then stopped because I realised I didn’t want to live there. So I bought this flat instead. And now I want to buy this Wolfsbane Potion, or to pay someone to create something similar. So there, I’m not a perv. I told you.”

“I didn’t think that.” Draco smiled. “I was just curious. So… all the rent I’ve paid is going to come to me again when — and notice I said _when_ and not _if_ — I brew this potion?” He raised an eyebrow in what Harry thought was a very Malfoy-ish way. That gesture made him feel more comfortable. An arrogant Draco, he knew how to deal with. 

“ _If_ you brew it, then I guess it’s yours, yes.”

“So little trust in my abilities.”

And with that they began. It took them hours until Draco screamed he had one of the ingredients and wrote it down on a bit of parchment. From then it seemed easier, or at least Harry thought that Draco found more and more ingredients. He didn’t understand why Draco had asked to meet as he wasn’t doing anything helpful. His work consisted in giving Draco the books he needed, refilling his glass with water or juice, and making dinner. He felt like some kind of servant, but watching Draco engrossed in a book and observing how his eyes lit up when he read something interesting made up for it. When, yawning, Draco called it a night, he had ten different options for what the improved Wolfsbane could be. 

“Are you free next Saturday?” Draco asked. “We can go buy all the ingredients we need in the morning, and then brew some of the potions in the afternoon and on Sunday.”

“Yes, I’m free. That’ll be great. Do we meet here?” Harry asked, stretching. He was bloody tired. 

“Sure, and, please, feel free to enter this time. There’s no need for you to wait on the landing until I save you.” Draco smirked, and Harry cursed to himself. “Do you want to...er… sleep here tonight? By the way, where do you spend your weekends?”

“Oh, there’s no need…” Harry felt how he blushed. What was Draco thinking? There was only one bed! “I’ll stay at Ron and Hermione’s. I always sleep there on weekends. They don’t want me to be alone for so much time. They’re a bit… overprotective sometimes, you know? Thanks though.”

“It’s alright. And I get that. Pansy and Greg are the same. Good night then, Potter.” Draco smirked. 

“Malfoy.” Harry smiled back. 

* * *

The next week didn’t go fast enough for Draco. He couldn’t focus on his work enough, and even Radwah had to call him out a few times. He was too impatient for Saturday. 

Spending a whole day with Harry had been better than what he had thought at first. He already knew his flatmate was funny and a great cook, but he had forgotten how bright his eyes were and how cute he was when he talked, moving his hands a lot. In spite of Harry’s distracting presence, Draco had done his work and was now impatient to see if he was able to replicate the new Wolfsbane Potion. 

The only interesting thing that happened that week besides his nervousness was that he began his sessions with a Mind Healer. They were going better than he had expected, although more often than not he ended up crying. 

On Saturday, he woke up early and took a quick shower. Then, wearing just pants, he stared at his open wardrobe for something to wear. He wished that writing a note to Harry was an option in that moment, as his words always calmed him or made him laugh. At last, he chose something comfortable, as they would be going back and forth all day. 

He spent the next hour walking in circles in the flat, as his excitement didn’t allow him to do anything else. Finally, Harry arrived. 

“Good morning,” he said, smiling. “Where are we going today? Diagon Alley?”

Draco smiled at him too. Harry was wearing jeans and a worn out t-shirt with the name of a Muggle band on it. His eyes shone behind his glasses, which had some finger marks on. And of course, his hair was a bird’s nest. Draco didn’t know why he found that so attractive about him. 

“Hey,” he greeted. “No, we’re going to the beach. There’s an apothecary in Brighton that has more variety than the one in Diagon Alley. Besides, the bloke at the one in the alley is an idiot.”

“As you say.” Harry shrugged. “Where are we going to brew ten potions, by the way?”

“ _We_ aren’t going to brew anything,” Draco pointed out. “I’m going to brew them in the potion’s shop I work in. I asked my boss, and he said it was alright. Come on, let’s go to the alley here to Disapparate.”

They left the flat in silence, and when they reached the alley, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and Disapparated. 

“Why did you do that?” Harry asked, with his face green and gagging. “You could have warned me!”

“Sorry, I thought you were ready.” Draco looked at him. He certainly didn’t look well. “Er… Do you need anything?”

“Just a few seconds until the street stops moving,” Harry said. “I don’t like Apparition. Brooms are better.”

“I have to agree with you there.”

A few seconds later, they left the small alley and went into the streets of Brighton. Draco guided Harry, pointing out his favourite places, until they arrived at an old apothecary that, like the Leaky Cauldron, was only visible to wizards and witches. 

“ _Gemino_!” Draco said, pointing his wand to the list of ingredients he had brought. “Here, we’ll finish earlier if we split the work, and then we can go take a stroll on the beach for a while.”

“Okay,” Harry said, looking at his parchment. “Merlin! There are things here I haven’t heard about in my life. What the hell is a H-R-O-F?”

Draco frowned and looked at the word Harry was pointing to. Then he laughed. 

“It says ‘frog’, you idiot!”

“Seriously? This thing is an F?”

“You should be familiar with my handwriting by now.”

“You usually write better than this, you know. Okay, wish me luck finding all these things!” Harry laughed and went away. 

“I was in a hurry the other night when I wrote that!” Draco half shouted after him, but Harry showed him his middle finger over his shoulder and kept walking down the aisle. He smiled and went to look for his own ingredients. 

“I think I have everything,” Harry told him half an hour later before the counter. 

“Me too,” Draco answered, looking at all the things they had and at the list, making sure they had bought everything they needed. “You pay, right?”

“Yes, with your money,” Harry said as he handed the shop owner a bag full of Galleons. 

“Git,” Draco muttered. “Okay, what do you want for lunch? Fish and chips on the beach?” he asked when they left the shop. 

“You’re a bit obsessed with the beach, aren’t you?” Harry snorted. 

“I like the sea. We had a summer house near here, and I loved coming every year,” Draco told him. It felt like those times had happened a lifetime ago. 

“Oh! What happened to the house?” Harry asked, looking at him with interest. 

“The Ministry took it as war reparations. I don’t know what they did with it,” he said. “They took the manor too, although I don’t mind that too much. Too many unhappy memories there.”

“It must have been hard...losing everything like that,” Harry said.

“Is the Chosen One feeling pity for a Death Eater?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I must be a very bad influence on you.”

“Prat,” Harry said. “And yes, you are that. I was a better person before sharing a flat with you.”

“There it is!” Draco said, ignoring Harry's words and pointing to the little restaurant in front of them. “Get ready to eat the best fish and chips you’ve ever eaten.”

“Did you come here with your parents too? It’s hard to think of them eating in a place like this one,” Harry said, looking around. 

“They acted more relaxed when it was just the three of us,” Draco said, counting the Muggle money he had brought and waiting in the line behind a group of tourists. 

“Are they still in France?”

“Yeah, they can’t come back for another four years, and, honestly, I don’t think they will. They have their life there now.”

They ordered their food and had a bit of a discussion when Draco insisted he was paying for their food and Harry refused. Draco won. Then walked down the coast path until they found an entrance to the beach. They sat on the rocks near the sea and began to eat. 

“So?” Draco asked, looking at how Harry bit his chips with almost indecent excitement. “Aren’t they good?”

“Delicious,” he answered with his mouth full. 

Draco snorted, and kept eating. He had missed this place. It felt good to be back, if only for a few hours, and revive the memories of all those past holidays in the summer house. However, being there with Harry added a new exciting memory. 

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asked, putting the dirty napkins in the bag they used for the trash. 

“Sure.”

“In one of your notes, you said you liked Potions because you got to see your crush there, who was he?” Draco turned to look at him, feeling his cheeks blushing, and saw that the git was smiling kindly. 

“I’m not telling you that!” he said in a voice that sounded too high-pitched even for his own ears. 

“Come on! It was a Gryffindor, wasn’t it? And I’m guessing it was a boy… or do you like girls too?” Harry said, now with a knowing smirk. 

Draco groaned. 

“I’m gay. You aren’t going to stop until you guess it, right?”

“Nope. I like mysteries. So that leaves us with just Neville, Dean, Seamus, Ron, and me.” He looked at Draco with half-closed eyes, as if he was trying to read his mind. “It wasn’t Neville.”

“Of course it wasn’t!” Draco snapped and regretted it instantly. He shouldn’t make it so easy for him to guess. 

“And it wasn’t Ron either, right?”

“You know what? I’m not going to reply. I’m going to just sit here and let you make your own, wrong conclusions, and then I’ll laugh at you.” He crossed his arms and pouted. 

“You aren’t angry, right? If this bothers you, I’ll stop.”

“I don’t mind, Harry.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m just embarrassed. I can’t believe I told you that.” 

“Ok. So it wasn’t Ron either. Was it Dean? He was pretty, and had a good arse.”

“I didn’t confirm nor deny if it was Weasley.” He got up and picked up the trash bag. “Let’s get brewing. I’ll warn you before Apparating this time.”

*

The little shop looked eerie without Draco’s coworkers there, but he wasn’t going to complain about not having to listen to Martin. He went to the back room, and heard Harry following him. 

“Okay, we’ll need five couldrons. I don’t think I can brew ten potions at the same time, but five is more manageable.” He waved his wand and five cauldrons appeared over the five potion stations placed in the different tables. “The potions we'll be brewing today are these ones." He showed Harry the instructions he had written the night before. "Help me put the ingredients beside each cauldron, please.”

“I thought we weren’t brewing anything,” Harry said as he looked at the list Draco had given him and picked some of the ingredients they’d need. 

“Be a good boy and not talk back to your elders.”

Harry laughed and finished preparing the ingredients while Draco focused on the work at hand. He loved potions, and the thought of discovering the formula for the improved Wolfsbane excited him a lot. From the corner of his eye, he saw how Harry was looking curiously at the shelves full of jars, liquids, potion ingredients, and books. He moved in silence, as if trying to make the least noise possible to not bother Draco. 

“You can talk, you know.” Draco said. “I can do more than one thing at the same time.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, and you’re already doing five things.” He pointed to the five cauldrons. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll keep my investigation about your Hogwarts crush. What do you think about Seamus?”

Draco let out a suffering sigh. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything!”

It was past midnight when they left the shop. The potions needed a few days or weeks to be finished, but Draco would do that during the next weeks when he had time at work. 

“Are you going to Weasley and Granger’s house?” he asked when they were standing in the alley they used for Apparitions. 

“Yes. I can’t sleep in the flat, can I?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! The bed is big enough for the two of us, and it’s not like we aren’t used to sharing it, is it?” Draco said. He couldn’t be sure because it was dark, but he thought that Harry blushed.

“At different times!”

“Right, but I don't mind. I feel bad making you sleep in another house instead of in your own bed. There’s no problem on my part, really.” He and his friends had slept in the same bed multiple times without anyone batting an eye about it. Of course, it was different sleeping with Harry, but they were going to sleep, nothing else. 

“It’s not that…” Harry bit his lip. “Fine. I don’t want to bother them so late. I’m Apparating us now!”

Draco laughed and offered him his hand to take. 

* * *

Harry woke up sweating. The sheets only covered his waist, but something heavier and hotter was pressed to his back, and something else was wrapped around his chest. He looked down, trying to understand, but his brain was still foggy with sleep. A pale arm was hugging him. Draco. Draco was cuddling him. A soft snore on his back confirmed it. Well, at least he was still asleep. Maybe Harry could disentangle himself and Draco wouldn’t notice the erection he had. 

He knew accepting had been a bad idea. But the night before he had been too tired to think properly, and after such a good day with Draco, he hadn’t wanted to go back alone to Ron and Hermione’s house. It had felt nice, going to bed next to someone. He smiled, remembering how Draco had warned him that he was a hugger in his sleep. Now Harry knew how true that was, as Draco’s arm tightened a bit more around his chest. He picked it up carefully and left it on the bed. He was free, although it didn’t make him feel better. 

In that moment, the doorbell rang with insistence. 

“What the hell…?” Draco muttered, pressing his head to Harry’s back, as if to block the noise.

“I’ll go to see who it is,” Harry said, getting up and leaving the room hurriedly. He saw how Draco looked at him and realised what had happened last night, but he didn’t want to talk to him when his cock had other ideas. 

The doorbell rang again for a few seconds. Annoyed, Harry opened the door and found a man he hadn’t met before. 

“Yes?” he asked. 

“Where is he?” the man asked in a strong voice, taking a step forward and invading Harry's personal space. 

Harry resisted the urge to take a step backwards, as he didn't want the man to enter his flat. He stayed in his place, blocking the door. 

“Who the fuck are you?”

“He’s shagging you now? First the redhead, and now this one. Draco?” the man screamed, looking at the interior of the flat, and Harry realised that this must be Michael. “Come here! We need to talk!”

“Draco isn’t coming right now. And you better go before I call the Aurors,” Harry said, standing before Michael and noticing that the other man was bigger and stronger than him. He wished he had brought his wand. He felt vulnerable just wearing his pyjamas. 

“DRACO!” Michael screamed. 

Harry tried to close the door, but the other man took another step, standing now just in the entrance. 

“Get out of my house!” Harry screamed too. He hoped one of his Muggle neighbours would call the police. 

“DRACO!” Michael screamed again, and this time Harry heard steps from behind. He turned and saw Draco coming slowly, very pale and with scared eyes. “Finally! Let’s go home! I’ve had enough of this nonsense!”

“I’m home,” Draco said in a stronger voice than Harry expected. “When are you going to understand that I’m not with you anymore, that I live here now? You broke up with me. You told me to leave your flat. Deal with it and leave me the fuck alone.”

“Do you think you’re better here with him?” Michael glanced at Harry, and a second later his eyes widened in recognition. He burst out laughing. “You’re dating Harry Potter? Dee!” He laughed again. 

Harry didn’t know what to do. This was something private between Draco and his ex, but at the same time, he was too scared to leave Draco alone with him. So he just stood there, next to Draco, and grabbed the door to slam it at the first chance. 

“My name is Draco,” he said through clenched teeth. 

“Dee, he’s only with you to have a laugh,” Michael talked like he was talking to a little child. “He doesn’t like you. Who would? You’re such an idiot. Come on. Let’s go home.”

“Leave me alone,” Draco said at the same time that he grabbed the door and slammed it in Michael’s face, who screamed again. 

Harry looked at Draco. He looked tiny, although he was taller than him by a few inches. He had his eyes fixed on the door and trembled everytime Michael screamed. Harry had never felt a bigger urge to hug someone before, but he didn’t dare. 

“I’m going to call Ron,” he said instead. “The door is locked with spells, so I don’t think he can come inside.” 

He glanced at Draco, but there wasn’t anything he could do to help him at that moment, so he turned to the fireplace and floo-called Ron. When he was done, he looked around but didn’t see Draco. As Michael kept screaming and hitting the door, Harry assumed Draco was still inside, so he went to the bedroom. 

Draco was sitting on the bed, still looking tiny, and crying quietly. Harry didn’t know what to do. 

“Hey,” he said softly. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m an idiot,” Draco whispered. “I don’t know how I could fall in love with him.”

“No, you’re not.” Harry sat on the bed too. “I bet he wasn’t like that at the beginning, and then you were too in love to realise.”

“He never screamed like this, nor hit anything…”

“You didn’t believe him, right?” Suddenly it was very important to Harry that Draco knew how likable he was. It hurt him seeing him so small. “When he said that nobody would like you, you didn’t believe him, right?”

Draco didn’t answer. He had his gaze fixed on his hands, which rested in his lap. 

“You’re nice, and a great baker, and good at potions, and funny, and cute, and pretty,” Harry said without thinking. When he realised, he shut up and took his eyes off Draco. He could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment. 

“Who would have thought,” Draco said. Harry looked at him and saw that a small smile played in the corners of his mouth. “My crush thinks I’m pretty.” He blushed too, and turned his face to the window. 

Harry stared at him. Had he heard right? He was Draco’s Hogwarts crush? He opened his mouth to say something else, although he didn’t have any idea of what, when a voice in the living room interrupted his intentions. 

“Harry? Malfoy?” It was Ron. 

“In the bedroom!” he called. 

“Are you alright?” Ron asked a second later from the bedroom entrance. “Malfoy? Michael’s in Auror custody now.”

“Good. Thanks,” Draco said, and got up. “I’m going to Pansy’s.”

He walked past Ron, and a moment later they heard the loud crack of someone Disapparating. 

“Are you sure you two are alright?” Ron asked again. 

“I think he likes me. I think that Draco likes me,” Harry said softly, not daring to believe it. 

Ron let out a long-suffering sigh. 


	5. The Bedroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the last chapter is here!

On the kitchen table:

_Hey, how are you? I bought some chocolate frogs for you as I know you love them (although you feign you don’t for whatever reason)._

_Harry_

Next to the last note:

_Hey. Yes. I’m sorry I haven’t answered any of your notes this past week, I think I was just in shock about Michael. I’m sorry we couldn’t brew the potions as we had planned._

_I don’t feign, I just don’t love them! They’re stupid!_

_D._

_EDIT: I love them! I finally have Ineptus Nux’s card! I’ve been looking for this one since I was 6!!_

On top of the last notes, near a chocolate frog card of a very ugly wizard:

_Don’t worry about it. We have other weekends. Ineptus Nux? Is that even a real name? Why did you want to have his card? Merlin! The poor bloke was so ugly. I think I’ll have nightmares when I go to bed!_

_Harry_

On top of the last notes, next to a picture of a little blond boy looking at an ant on his hand:

_I clearly have a thing for ugly wizards ~~as I like you.~~ Didn’t we have more post-its somewhere? I can’t find them. Anyway, that bloke you’re insulting is the creator of the formicam spell, which allows you to see ants as if they were the size of a human. And yes, it’s a very useful spell. And fascinating when you’re 6 and obsessed with insects._

_Radwah (my coworker and friend) and I brewed the other five potions. I’ll tell you if we find anything interesting in the next few weeks!_

_D._

On top of the last notes:

_Is that you? So cute! Were you seeing that ant in human size? I’d be terrified!_

_We ran out of post-its on Monday, when you decided to have a monologue on the bathroom wall about why having just one soap is for underdeveloped species and having a shelf with forty bottles is what posh prats do._

_Good luck!_

_Harry_

On the living room table, stuck to a glass bottle with a turquoise potion in it:

_Potion done! We sent it to the Ministry and St Mungo’s for approval. We’re still waiting though (and I don’t think the Ministry will consider it a priority). I’m pretty sure it’s safe to use it, but just in case, warn your patients about it._

_D._

* * *

Harry couldn’t believe that Draco and his friend had done the potion so quickly. Patients like Sarah had endured a lot of pain just because the Ministry refused to pay a few Galleons. He hoped that the people in charge compensated Draco and Radwah as they deserved. 

“Good evening, Sarah,” he said, smiling. Her second full moon would be that night. Her parents had chosen for her to spend the night at the hospital, as she would be better cared off than at home, and Harry was very happy about it. “How are you?”

“Everything hurts,” she said in a pitiful voice. “I don’t want to transform again.”

“I’m sorry. I have a potion that might help you with that.” He turned to her parents. “A friend of mine is a potions master, and he and one of his colleagues had investigated an improved Wolfsbane. It can make the pain go away during the transformation. The Ministry hasn’t approved it yet, but the hospital has. If you accept, Sarah will be the first person to try it.”

“Do you think it’s safe?” Sarah’s mother asked, hope and worry fighting for her features. 

“I trust my friend and the potions experts at the hospital. I know they’ve been careful with their work,” Harry said. 

“Do it.” Sarah looked at her mother and Harry with hopeful, big eyes. “Mom, please. It hurts a lot.”

Sarah’s parents looked at each other and at their daughter, doubt all over their expressions. Harry retired a bit to give them privacy while they decided, but inwardly he hoped they accepted. 

“Fine,” Sarah’s father said with his raspy voice. “Give her the potion.”

“I’ll bring it an hour before moonrise. For now, take this one to ease the pain a bit, okay?” Harry said in a calming voice. 

“I really hope your friend is good at potions,” Sarah said with her usual chirpy tone. 

“He’s the best. Otherwise, I wouldn’t give my favourite patient his beverages, would I?”

“You give me that lavender one, so I’m not sure.” She looked at him with mocking suspicious eyes. 

Harry laughed. 

“I’ll see you later.”

He felt so different from the last full moon. The worries he had this month were full of hope too. And pride, as he was very happy that it was Draco who brewed the potion. Smiling, he entered Mrs. Williams' room. 

“Good evening,” he greeted the old lady. “How are you today?”

“Not very well, dear. I guess you already heard about all my hair falling again?” She shook her head. 

“I heard, but I see you have it back.” Harry read the notes on her bedside table. “They’re pretty sure it’ll stay this time.”

“I hope so. I want to go back home.” She sighed. “Merlin’s beard! I almost forgot! I have something for your boy.”

“My boy?” Harry said, confused. 

“That gentleman you’re in love with! I knitted him a scarf too. Navy blue.” She picked her wand up and made a soft, blue scarf fly from the cupboard to her lap. “Here.”

“Thanks, but he is not… I’m not in love…” he stumbled over his words. 

“You haven’t asked him out yet?” She looked intently at him. “Harry, you have to ask him! How are you going to be happy if you don’t?”

“And if he says no?” Harry asked, as it was the only reason he hadn’t said anything to Draco. 

“And if he says yes?”

Harry sighed. There was too much at stake in his relationship with Draco. There wasn’t just their past, but their living arrangement that would become uncomfortable if he said anything about his feelings. He remembered that Draco had said he was his crush, but a crush was just that. It wasn’t real liking — love. Was it? And maybe Draco had been talking about the past, about Hogwarts. Then there were the notes. After the bathroom encounter, they had exchanged some notes praising each other’s bodies, but they hadn’t meant anything, right? Harry had meant them, of course, although he had hoped that Draco thought he was just joking. 

And then there was Michael. Harry didn’t think it was right to ask Draco out just after that Sunday’s episode. 

On the other hand, Mrs. Williams was right: what if he said yes?

“I’ll ask him out this morning,” he said, and Mrs. Williams smiled brightly at him. 

*

“And it won’t hurt at all?” Sarah asked hours later. “Promise?”

“Maybe it’ll just hurt a little bit. Promise.”

She took the turquoise potion in one gulp. 

“It doesn’t even taste disgusting. Are you sure this will work?”

“I do. Now make yourself comfortable. We’ll be outside,” Harry said, and left to the corridor bench, where Sarah's parents joined him a minute after. 

They didn’t hear screams this time, only a soft whimper. The night seemed to last forever, until finally another soft whimper made them listen with attention. When they entered Sarah’s room, they found her sitting and smiling, although she looked tired. 

“It only hurt a bit!” she exclaimed. 

Harry let out a relieved sigh and smiled. He didn’t bother to wipe the happy tears that escaped his eyes.

* * *

Draco went to work with a big smile the next day. He and Radwah had worked very hard to create the Wolfsbane Potion, and he still couldn’t believe that they had been able to do it. He was sure Harry’s patients were going to have a very easy full moon. 

“Morning!” he greeted as soon as he went inside. 

“Malfoy,” Martin muttered. He had been even more insufferable since he learned about his and Radwah’s success. “Late again.”

“Fuck off.”

He went straight to the back room without even looking at Martin. An idiot like that one wasn’t going to ruin his good mood. However, the idiot in question seemed eager to have the last word. 

“You should thank me, Malfoy,” Martin said with his usual spite. “I haven’t told Mr. Smith about you always being late, nor about the constant visits of your boyfriend.”

Draco took a deep breath and turned to look at him. 

“It’s 9 o’clock now. I’m not late, you fuckwit! If you want to come here insanely early, that is not my problem. And what’s that about my boyfriend? I haven’t had a boyfriend for months now.” He was doing an effort to not hex Martin. 

“Michael. He comes here a lot and asks me things about you. I’m tired of fixing your relationship, Malfoy. Merlin knows why I bother.”

“What?” Draco’s blood had gone cold. Then he realised, all made sense then. “You told Michael where I live, and did you tell him I was meeting my friends in that pub too, didn't you?”

“You’re welcome,” Martin said with a smirk. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Draco was screaming now, but he didn’t care. “That’s personal information! What gives you the right to tell anyone that, let alone Michael? You’re really as stupid as you look.”

“He told me you were having problems…”

“And you were worried about me?” Draco let out a dry laugh. “Michael let you think you were so special, didn’t he?” he went on with cruelty. “He made you feel all important and big, sharing his secrets, and spying on me. He doesn’t care about you, Martin. He’s a manipulative bastard, and you’re a traitor for telling him those things about me.”

Martin had gone pale. He had always enjoyed being the important person, the one in charge, so Draco guessed that hearing about Michael using him hadn’t felt very good. Draco looked at him with distaste once more, and strode into the back room. He thought that Martin wouldn’t bother him again in a while. 

*

_The potion worked! The hospital said they’ll contact you about payment, so I guess you’re about to have some money. Will you still be living with me when you become a famous potions brewer?_

_Do you want to go out this Saturday to celebrate your success? We could go to have dinner in one of those fancy restaurants I’m sure you love. Or we could go to the beach again._

_Love,_

_Harry_

“So? What do you think?” Draco asked his friends when they read the note Harry had left on the living room table. He had found the note as soon as he had arrived from work, and then had called his friends for an urgent meeting. 

He walked from the door to the armchair where Greg was sitting and back. His nervousness didn’t let him be still. 

“I honestly don’t know,” Pansy said, and looked at Radwah and Greg for their opinion. 

“I think he’s asking you out on a date, but in the clumsiest way I have ever seen,” Radwah said. 

“He isn’t,” Greg said. “If I’d ask out someone, I wouldn’t do it in the same note I ask them if they’re still living with me.”

“That’s because you’re a sap, and Potter’s an idiot,” Draco said. 

“So he’s Potter again?” Pansy smirked at him. Draco glared. “Why don’t you ask him if it’s a date date or just a friend’s outing?”

“You can’t ask things like that, Parkinson!” He walked around the table and dropped next to Radwah on the sofa. “Any ideas of how I can face this?”

“It isn’t a date, so just do whatever you did the other day in Brighton.” Greg shrugged. It irked Draco that he was so calm about this. This was big. A date with Harry! Maybe.

“Okay, what about this: you go out with him and act as if it were a date, as I’m sure it is, and if you see that he gets weird, you stop?” Radwah suggested. “Or you act as a friend’s thing. Whatever option you like best.”

“I don’t know. It’s too complicated! He wrote that stupid note like all the other ones, but then he said ‘love’! Why did he say that? He has never signed with it before! Ugh!” Draco rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. 

“You make it complicated,” Pansy muttered. “Let’s go to the café on the corner. I need cake.”

The four of them got up with excitement, though Draco wasn’t about to drop the subject so easily. They left for the landing, and a few minutes later — they had to wait for Pansy because she had forgotten her purse inside — they went downstairs and to the café where, with a piece of cake before them, it was more rewarding to discuss Harry’s intentions.

* * *

“Mate,” Ron smiled, “you’re going to make a mark on the floor if you keep pacing.”

“I have a date. I’m nervous. Shut up.”

Ron laughed again, and Harry ignored him. In just an hour he’d be having a date with Draco. Ron could laugh all he wanted, but Harry was happy. He had been very anxious after leaving the note asking Draco out, as he hadn’t known if he had made his intentions clear. And as it turned out he hadn’t. Thankfully, Pansy Parkinson of all people had left a note in the living room asking about it, so he had written another for Draco, this time without space for doubts. He couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. 

“And what are you going to do with the little ferret tonight?” Ron asked, sprawled out on the sofa at his house. 

“Fancy dinner. Do you think I’m dressed well enough for it?” Harry stood very still in front of Ron, and his friend snorted. 

“I guess.”

“You’re completely useless.” Harry kept pacing. Just fifty minutes more…

*

This time Harry didn’t wait outside or knock, he just went in. He said a loud ‘hello’ to let Draco know he was there, and just a minute later, he was staring at a beautiful Draco. He had his hair in that casual messy way Harry liked so much, and was wearing black trousers and a silky shirt that showed his forearms. Bright grey eyes filled with excitement stared back at him. Suddenly, he felt very shy and very brave at the same time. 

“Harry,” Draco said, smiling. “What are we going to do on our date?”

Harry noticed how two soft pink marks appeared on Draco’s cheeks. Apparently he wasn’t the only one nervous about it. 

“I booked a table at that Italian restaurant they opened in Kensington.” Harry hoped it had been a good idea. 

“At Venezia’s? We’re going to have dinner at Venezia’s? Did you tell them you’re the famous Harry Potter to get a table? It’s fucking hard to get one there!” Draco looked very excited, and Harry had a sudden urge to kiss him, although he refrained. 

“It wasn’t that hard.” He shrugged. “I may have gone there and they saw my scar and almost forced me to book a table.”

“You little shit,” Draco smirked. “There’s still hope for you, we can make a Slytherin out of you yet.”

“I already have a green scarf,” Harry reminded him. “And the Sorting Hat said I would have been a great Slytherin.”

“What!?” Draco looked at him with wide eyes. “And why am I only learning about this now? Merlin! Imagine if you had gone to Slytherin! I think I’d have killed you in your sleep with a pillow or something.”

“You would have, you prat! If I wouldn’t have killed you first.”

“You’re too noble for that. You would have cursed me and left me in the infirmary to die.”

“So gentlemanly of me!” Harry laughed. He glanced at the clock on the wall and cursed under his breath. “We should go, it’s getting late. I’m Apparating us!”

“I’m offended that you don’t trust me for that, you know,” Draco said, walking towards the front door. 

“I don’t care. Last time I almost left my guts behind.”

The restaurant staff guided them to their table in the little terrace at the back as soon as they stepped inside. The night was warm, perfect to have a long dinner while listening to the fountain in the middle of the terrace. Little pixie lights lit up the scattered tables. 

“This is amazing,” Draco said, when they sat. 

Harry smiled, still nervous. He couldn’t believe he was having a proper date with Draco Malfoy, and he was scared of fucking it up in some stupid way. 

“What are you going to eat?” he asked, looking over the menu. “I don’t know what half these things are. What the hell is _vermicelli_?”

“I think it’s some kind of steak with sauce,” Draco said, reading the menu with his brow furrowed. “Mmmm, I think I’ll have a risotto.”

“I’ll take the _vermicelli_. I hope it’s good.”

Minutes later, when their food arrived, Draco burst out laughing. Harry looked confused at his dish, full of something that looked very similar to spaghetti with some clams. 

“You said it was steak!” Harry exclaimed, feeling betrayed. 

Draco tried to reply, but he was laughing too much so he only managed a few incoherent sounds. 

“Idiot. I hope your risotto tastes like shit.” He pouted.

“Sorr — sorry,” Draco hiccuped, his eyes shining with mirth. Harry thought he looked very handsome like that. It was a pity he hadn’t noticed it back at school, but when he laughed, Draco was absolutely gorgeous. “I really thought it was a kind of steak. I must have confused it with something else. We can change if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. Although you can eat the clams, I don’t like them.” He picked them with his fork and put them on Draco’s dish. It was beyond him how anyone could like such food. 

“Thanks. So you didn’t tell me the details about how the potion worked.”

Harry launched himself in a detailed explanation of how much it had improved Sarah’s life, and it made him even happier seeing how Draco glowed with pride at his work. 

“It was impressive, Draco! And you did it in so little time!”

“It was easy since we already knew some of the ingredients and steps we needed, and I didn’t do it alone. Radwah helped a lot, although I must say that the good potion was one of the five you and me brewed together.”

“Of course it was. You had my great help there!”

“Yeah, it was because of you, oh mighty Saviour,” Draco said with sarcasm. 

He had finished eating and pushed his dish a bit towards Harry to have space to move his hands. It was then when Harry saw it. The Dark Mark. Harry knew it was there, of course, but had forgotten about it. The other few times he had seen Draco, he hadn’t noticed, as he had been more interested in other parts of his anatomy or Draco had worn long sleeves. But now that he saw it, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. It stood out on Draco’s pale skin. 

“Harry?” Draco said, and he thought that maybe Draco had talked before and he hadn’t heard. “Are you okay? What are you looking at?” Draco followed Harry’s gaze. “Oh.” His cheeks became pink. 

“I’m sorry, I —” Harry felt how he blushed too. “I didn’t intend to stare. I just — I had forgotten about it.”

“I thought you had seen it before, that time in the bathroom. I can hide it if you want or —” Draco bit his lip. He looked a bit tiny too, like that time when Michael had almost barged into their flat. Years ago Harry would have said something nasty, but now that he knew Draco, he only wanted to hug him and reassure him that all was well. 

“I didn’t. I was… distracted. I mean, you were wearing just pants… your arm wasn’t something I noticed at that moment.” _Fuck_. His cheeks were burning. He could have said anything else, literally anything else, but he had to say that. 

“Were you... distracted?” Draco’s voice sounded like a purr. Harry looked at him and saw that his cheeks were still pink, but his eyes had relaxed and were bright. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to praise his body after all. 

“You have cute freckles.”

“That’s what you liked? That I looked like Weasley? I have always known you three had something weird going on!”

“Idiot! We’re friends! Nothing else! And you look nothing like Ron!” Harry felt a bit embarrassed after saying that, but letting Draco know how perfect he was seemed very important. “You’re handsome.”

“You’re cute, Potter, when you try to distract me. Do you have bad intentions, like bringing me to bed?” Draco’s lips were curved in a smirk. 

“Well, there’s only one bed in our flat, isn’t there? We’ll have to share it if we don’t want to disturb Ron and Hermione.” Harry’s heart was beating very fast. This hadn’t been his intention at all when he praised Draco, but now… Now it was all he could think about. And he wanted it badly. 

“Of course, we don’t want that.”

* * *

They had left the restaurant after the desserts and had gone straight to their flat. Draco had made some sexual innuendos, and Harry had too, and now, standing in the living room, he didn’t know what to do. He knew what he wanted: to kiss Harry senseless and maybe something else. Something more daring than a few caresses. But he didn’t know if Harry wanted it too. 

“Do we go to bed then?” Harry asked, and Draco saw how his eyes darkened with lust. With any luck, they were thinking about the same thing. 

Draco took his hand and dragged him to the bedroom, where before either of them could change their minds, he closed the gap that separated them and kissed him. Harry kissed him back, wrapping his arms around Draco’s body. When they pulled apart to breathe, Draco smiled, and Harry looked at him like he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Something warm expanded in Draco’s chest.

“You're gorgeous,” Harry whispered. 

“Come here, you,” he said, kissing Harry all over his face while his hands worked on the buttons of his shirt. When he finished, he began to kiss Harry’s chest, his scar, the birthmark that looked like a flower, the nipples, the navel. “Fuck, Harry, put this shirt on the floor, I want to see you!”

Harry laughed and took it off while Draco looked with hungry eyes. Yes, that was better. He let out a gasp when he felt Harry’s hands on him, undoing the buttons of his shirt now. He didn’t wait for him to finish before taking it off over his head.

“You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?” Harry whispered, pushing him towards the bed so Draco was lying on it. 

Harry kissed the scars on his chest with care, as if his kisses could make them heal, and then sucked his nipples. Draco kissed him wherever he reached; a hand, a shoulder, the forehead, and buried his hands in Harry’s hair. 

“Fuck! The trousers!” Draco said. 

He took them off, and Harry did the same, hurriedly, without taking their eyes off each other. Draco was sure that the other man would disappear if he stopped looking at him. 

“Take off the socks, you weirdo!” Draco exclaimed when he saw that Harry had left his on. Harry laughed and took them off, then kept kissing Draco everywhere. 

Draco’s hands touched Harry’s torso, marvelling at the soft skin, and then, after glancing at Harry for permission, he took his pants off. 

“You’re gorgeous, Potter,” he whispered, looking at Harry’s hard cock. 

His hand touched it, and Harry let out a soft moan. Draco wriggled, pushing Harry to the bed and making himself comfortable on top so he could touch him better. His fingers wrapped around his balls, carefully, and then he kissed the tip of his cock, making Harry moan again. Precome wetted Draco’s lips.

“Merlin, Draco!”

He leaned back and let his hand work on Harry’s cock, finding a rhythm comfortable for both of them. His own cock was hard, but he ignored it a bit more. Finally, Harry came with a great moan, and Draco kissed him again. 

“My turn,” he whispered, beside Harry’s lips. 

Harry got up, wrapping Draco in an embrace and kissing him, then he made Draco stand so he could kneel in front of him. Draco shivered in anticipation. 

Harry’s mouth took the tip of his cock, and then little by little he took more. It felt incredibly delightful. Harry’s tongue played around his cock, and Draco thought he would come then and there. He moaned. Harry took a bit more and began moving. In no time, Draco felt really close to his orgasm. 

“I’m going to come,” he said. 

Harry pulled off, and Draco came, moaning and collapsing on the bed and in Harry’s arms. 

“Merlin. This was good. Why didn’t we have a date before?” he whispered. 

Harry laughed, and kissed him on the lips. 

“We can have one tomorrow if you want.”

“Sounds good.”

After some cleaning charms, they snuggled together in bed to sleep. Draco couldn’t stop smiling. 

* * *

Some years later, on Draco’s side of the bed, next to a little box:

_Someone told me years ago that if I don’t ask the questions I’m dying to ask, I couldn’t be happy. So here. Will you marry me?_

_Harry_

On Harry’s side of the bed:

_Really? This is your way to propose to me? No big romantic gestures? No big bouquets of roses? No lovely speeches? You aren’t the Chosen One For Being Romantic, that’s for sure._

_The ring is gorgeous! You know I’m weak for silver and emeralds. Where did you buy it? I’d love to buy some jewellery for my mother’s birthday._

_D._

Next to the last note:

_Fuck! I forgot to answer!_

_YES!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much, all of you!! Your comments have been amazing and I can't say how much they mean to me! I was so excited writing this fic, and then sharing it with you! It has been an amazing experience!
> 
> I hope you liked this last chapter as well. It was my first time writing a sex escene, and although I know I still have a lot to learn about how writinh them, I have to say I have FUN writing this one, and thas't what matters, isn't it?
> 
> Thanks again!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Translation to Turkish available in Wattpad here: https://my.w.tt/zD3oKh3gKcb ❤️


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